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Wednesday
morning was different. Yes, were heading out again on a hike into the
High Sierra, but from a different trailhead. This necessitated us dropping the
top of the camper and taking the truck, and since we were doing that, we
decided we'd camp someplace new Wednesday night. Today's start would be the
trailhead at South Reservoir on Bishop Creek's South Fork. It was just a few
miles of driving. The place was packed. The large overnight backpackers'
parking lot was completely full early in the morning. New arriving backpackers
were disregarding the sign that said, "Additional Overnight Parking 1.2
Miles Down the Road," and parking in the day use only area. Here each
parking space was individually signed, "No Overnight Parking." This place gets a lot of heavy use.
We had a
legal place to park. The boots were on. The packs were ready and we were on our
way, once more "Into the Johnny Muir!"
The first
mile or so of trail was quite crowded; all sorts of groups and all sorts of
group dynamics. We noticed a group made up of two families with young children.
We hoped they were doing this right and making this a delightful outing with
only a short backpack in to a nice spot with a view with something for everyone to
do and enjoy from a base camp, not an endless death march. We caught up with
them at the first spot with a view ahead. A father was kneeled down to be close
to his son. The father pointed out the land features and asked his son,
"Now where do you think Long Lake should be?" This little snippet was
worth its weight in gold.
Long Lake
was right where the son pointed.
Just past
Long Lake we came upon our first and only pika in the Sierra. We had not even
heard one of their distinctive squeaks.
Muriel Lake
and the Piute Lake area had an abundance of whistle pigs - marmots. There were
a few golden mantled ground squirrels. The Long Lake area had a maternal colony
of Belding Ground Squirrels with many young ones cautiously on their haunches watching
us. Birds were most represented by Clarks Nutcrackers. We saw no deer. We saw
not one raptor or raven. It seemed surprisingly devoid of wildlife.
There is
elevation gain involved getting from Long Lake up to Timberline Tarns.
We stopped
for a break. The Lady kept us found........................................
.........................................and
I looked for trout.
A hop, skip,
and a jump and we were soon hiking along Saddlerock Lake.
At the head
of the canyon are wetlands and shallow tarns. In areas like this I watch for
amphibians. I saw none.
The trail
continued to climb (of course!) up to the rock filled gully that marks the start
of the South Fork of Bishop Creek.
As the
terrain steepens, the trail meanders through the rubble. The trail work here is
amazing. The trail bed has been hand filled with fist sized cobble making for
relatively easy hiking.
The trail
hits a rock face and up it goes in a marvelous series of back and forth short
switch backs.
The views
became amazing as we gained elevation. This was great fun!
The crowds
had thinned out before we had even reached Long Lake. Here the music of the
wind, the music of water running deep down somewhere beneath all these rocks nourished any need we had for sound.
We reached
the top of the ridge......................................................
...........................................but
not the Sierra Crest and Bishop Pass. The ridge led to the crest. There was still
some hiking to be done.
And then we
were there.
Two names
you have probably never heard, David Steeves and Clint Hester.
Clint
Hester's son was a brave young copilot, anxious to do his part, serve his
country, and join all the men fighting in World War Two. On a training mission
on December 5, 1943, he and his B-24 bomber disappeared. For seventeen summers
Mr. Hester combed the Sierra Nevada looking for his lost son. A year after
Clint Hester's death, wreckage was found in an unnamed high Sierra lake. His
son, his crewmates, and plane had finally been found. Take this trail down from
Bishop Pass, through Dusy Basin, into the knee jarring depths of Le Conte
Canyon. From there head cross country up the other side. Ascend a steep rocky
gully to a hanging treeless basin and find what is now named Hester Lake in
honor of the father who wanted to find his son. It is said the lake is deep,
too deep to see the bomber resting in its depths.
Several
years ago the Lady & I were in a special for the History Channel, BrokenWings. The host, Pat Macha told the stories of three historic military aircraft
wrecks. One was the story of Lt. David Steeves. Piloting his Air Force T-33 jet
on May 9, 1957 a malfunction occurred and he made the decision to eject. This
was another disappearance story. He was declared dead. In an extraordinary feat
of survival, injured, he crawled out of the high Sierra and was found by a stock
packer 52 days later. He was lauded a hero. He was a celebrity. A book deal was
in the works. Problem was, his plane could not be found. At the height of the
cold war, rumors grew that he was a spy, it was all staged, he had given the
jet to the USSR. His military career and marriage crumbled. Steeves died in
1965. In 1977 a group of boy scouts from Los Angeles discovered a T-33 canopy
in Dusy Basin. It bore the serial number of Steeves' plane.
The wind was
cold up on Bishop Pass. We climbed off trail to a high point. Lying on our
backs next to our packs, tucked low into the rocks but in the sun, we were
warm. We took a long break. This closeness drew our eyes to the tiny treasures
here.
We did have
to take a look around though. The ridges of the Sierra lined up to the west.
A pair of
backpackers appeared in the distance, working their way up from the west.
The
Inconsolable Range was our immediate backdrop to the east.
We started
back down from Bishop Pass. A faint trail led to a overlook. Bishop Lakes,
Saddlerock Lake, and Long Lake were laid out below us.
With these
incredible vistas around us, we could have spent the rest of our lives here in
awe.
Down by
Bishop Lakes we found another snow survey shelter. This one looked more like
what we are used to - an extra high door to use when the snow is deep. The Bishop Lake Snow Survey Station is done the old fashion way, once a month, manually, with live humans.
Ah................the
Lady likes a circle. When hiking up in the morning we had seen the trail with
the sign that read, "Chocolate Lake." And we can read maps. And we
have done lots and lots of hiking in the mountains. We decided on a little
cross country detour to reach the Chocolate Lakes. We left the trail and passed
by all the Timberline Tarns. Visiting here alone would have made our trip.
It was an
adventure. We climbed and then we dropped down to Ruwau Lake. We found sections
of an old use trail. We climbed out of Ruwau's basin and reached a high
pass.
We steeply
dropped down to the first Chocolate Lake. We found sections of no longer
maintained trail. We crossed the creek and traveled around the second Chocolate
Lake. We crossed the creek again and hiked the length of a tarn. We found
another section of trail. The drop down to Bull lake was steep on loose rock in
thick willows. The trail at Bull Lake was more used and the lake had obvious
campsites right at water's edge. But, "Would we rather be here or back at
camp?" We were soon back at that intersection with the sign on the tree
with an arrow, "Chocolate Lake."
The trail
was quiet, only a few fellow hikers and backpackers shared the trail with us.
This was most likely an over 20 mile day for us. We felt great, but tired. The
trail finishes off above South Reservoir, showing hard evidence of our current
severe drought.
Back at the
truck, the boots were off, we changed into clean shirts, and headed down the
road. It was around 6:30 pm, still lots of daylight. We didn't have a place
secured to camp at for the night. Was this a mistake? The Fourth of July
holiday was fast approaching. One of our primitive showers, dinner, a place to
watch the sunset, a quiet night, restful sleep, a place to watch the sunrise,
was this too much for the ski3pinners to ask for?
Continued in Part
Five - Please Click Here
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